


No Explanation Needed

by heeroluva



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's relationship with Mycroft doesn't need an explanation, but he might just have to give one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Explanation Needed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [egli](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=egli).



> Written for [](http://egli.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**egli**](http://egli.dreamwidth.org/). I hope you enjoy! All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated.

Sherlock had walked these halls countless times over the years, often alone, though sometimes, like now, with his brother. If he had it his way, he’d have never set foot in this house again. But Mummy demanded it, and this year John hadn’t let him slip out of Christmas dinner with the family, accepting the invitation on Sherlock’s behalf and somehow finagling one of his own.

Sherlock could truly have cared less about the event as his relatives often turned the conversation towards the waste of his genius intellect, wondering when he would finally settle down into a suitable career and marry a proper woman. It was one such comment that had Sherlock ready to point out that dear Uncle Issac had finally lost his medical license due to numerous malpractice suits and Cousin Geoffrey was boffing his male best friend (and had been for years) behind his darling fiancée’s back.

However, John rose to his defense first, lauding Sherlock’s skills and chosen profession, and painting a far nicer picture of Sherlock than anyone ever had. When he finished, the table was silent, for once the majority of the Holmes’ family at a loss for words, though Mummy wore a smile that meant trouble and Mycroft’s knowing smirk was firmly in place. Taking notice, John suddenly flushed and excused himself.

Not bothering with an explanation, Sherlock followed, more than ready to leave this mockery of family connectedness behind. However, hearing Mycroft excuse himself and follow, Sherlock altered his course, walking the familiar twists and turns of plush hallways to _their_ spot.

Neither needed words for this, what was between them. Sherlock didn’t protest as he was shoved back against the wood paneled wall, his brother’s mouth slanting over his, dominating the kiss and capturing his grunt at the impact. It had been far too long since they’d had the chance for this, the opportunity to be alone, as work kept them both busy. Mycroft wasted no time on pleasantries, his hands busy working the buttons of Sherlock’s jacket and shirt, tugging it out of the waistband of his trousers and pushing the material aside before he began twisting at the pink nubs of Sherlock’s nipples.

Gasping at the sensations, Sherlock nipped at Mycroft’s tongue only to groan as Mycroft used his nails as reprimand. God, how Sherlock had missed this. Not just the sex, but the closeness of another. Mycroft knew him better than most, and there were no need for pleasantries or negotiations. They both knew what they wanted, and while those wants didn’t always match up, neither had a problem accommodating the other.

Finally, Mycroft’s hands dropped lower, and he made quick work of the fastenings of Sherlock’s trouser before finally pulling Sherlock’s half hard prick from out of his trousers. A few harsh tugs saw him at full hardness and Mycroft sank down to his knees and took Sherlock deep into his mouth in one smooth motion.

Moaning softly, Sherlock dropped his hands to Mycroft’s shoulders, fingers harshly bunching the fine cloth of his custom tailored suit. It didn’t matter that they were brothers, that this was wrong in the eyes of society. Sherlock had never cared much about what society thought, and Mycroft had built himself on bending the rules to fit his needs.

This was no different. It wasn’t just the sex, as wonderful as it was. They just fit; there were few that saw the world for what it was as they did, fewer that could understand it, and fewer still that could understand them. John was learning, and could see more than most; the potential was there. But this, with Mycroft, worked. It was as close to love as Sherlock knew, as close as he was capable of. Yes, they bickered and fought, but that was their foreplay, the exchange of words, and sharpness of tongue, the vying for the upper hand.

As Mycroft hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, his head bobbing, Sherlock knew he wouldn’t last, having gone far too long without, needing this release. Sherlock groaned in protest as Mycroft suddenly froze, his fingers digging into his scalp. By the time Sherlock registered the footsteps it was too late.

John rounded the corner, and Mycroft jerked away, teeth scraping along the length of Sherlock’s cock. It was too much, and Sherlock came in spurts across Mycroft’s face as he moaned, “John!”

“Sher—” John stopped, freezing as he tried to process the scene before him, not quite believing his eyes. “Sorry!” John’s eyes darted around, not quite sure where to look: Mycroft on his knees, the cum streaking his face, Sherlock’s flushed and panting mouth, his bare chest, and shrinking cock, still shiny with Mycroft’s saliva. “I’ll just— Sorry,” John said again, finally turning and making his escape.

As Mycroft pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his face, Sherlock could see the gears turning behind his eyes. “That went better than expected.”

 _Better than expected?_ With a huff, Sherlock tugged his brother to his feet, and Sherlock straightened himself up before they returned back the way they came. “What are you…” Sherlock trailed off, cursing his brother’s penchant for disappearing when he didn’t want to answer questions. Of course Mycroft had planned this. But the why was what Sherlock didn’t understand. If this was some odd attempt at matchmaking, Sherlock wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish. This was much more likely to be his not so subtle way of staking his claim. Mycroft was always one for dramatics, and given that his scare tactic hadn’t worked on John, it had apparently been time to up the ante. There was no missing John’s interest.

Sherlock had tried to do as he’d always had and pretend that he was oblivious to it, but there was something about John that drew his attention, and Sherlock knew his brother well enough to know that John had also caught Mycroft’s notice. However, Sherlock couldn’t decide why, all the possibilities being equally likely. Sherlock wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but for now he had to find John before his family sank their claws into him. Even Sherlock could not say what the inevitable conversation between them would hold.


End file.
